24, if you can get August in there that'd be great, if not, any of the TFTBL crew :)
24 Confusing a handshake for a fist bump. (I was just replaying Tales Episode 1 for my recording and was reminded that August knew Marcus, so I’ll use that.)
“First of all, tell The Queenpin that I continue to appreciate her patronage, yes?” Marcus said.
“And she continues to appreciate the pile of dead bodies your weapons make possible,” August said, perusing the arsenal on display. “So, hey. Anything new from Jakobs?”
“You’re in luck, my friend!” Marcus replied heartily. “I just had the good fortune to make a little business trip to Eden-6. Lovely, lush planet. You should go sometime, if you have the chance. Just be sure it’s not during Saurian mating season.”
“Uh-huh, sure, I’ll keep that in my back pocket,” August nodded impatiently. “Now, about the hardware?”
“Ah yes. Mr. Montgomery Jakobs was a hospitable host, and anxious to find loving homes for his new guns.” Marcus pressed a button under his counter, and the gun display rotated to reveal a more exclusive, high-end selection underneath.
There, in the center, was a bronze-and-mahogany pistol beauty. “Whoa. Nice.” August’s eyes glimmered as he reached for the handle.
“The Bloody Paramour--a fine choice,” Marcus lauded. “The handle is made of a special material that molds to your unique grip over time. You could say she’s a gun made especially for you.” He winked. “Careful she doesn’t take half of everything in the divorce, eh? Ha! Just speaking from experience.”
August practiced drawing and aiming the gun a few times. It felt right in his hand already--he could only imagine how comfortable it would become after continuous uses, if this hand-molding claim was true. And it would see plenty of use, there was no doubt of that. The Bloody Paramour seemed like a reliable gun. He could always go for a little more “reliable” in his line of work.
“I’ll take it,” he decided. “Usual rate?”
“Done, and done.” Marcus extended a hand across the table. Like a giddy kid with a new toy on Mercenary Day, August mistook the handshake for a fistbump and sprang a balled fist toward’s Marcus’ hand. He stopped a fraction of an inch short, realizing the mistake, and his hand sprang back.
"Listen, August, I know I’ve been working with your fine organization awhile now, but, eh, don’t get--how shall I say--familiar? I don’t offer a Friends and Family Discount,” Marcus said.
“Right.” August holstered the Jakobs pistol. “Take care, Marcus.”
